Healed
by Max Brown
Summary: Just a short story from the perspective of one of the Lotus-eaters Odysseus encounters on his voyage back from Troy. Oneshot.


I don't remember. I don't even know if I can anymore. I used to be able to, if I tried hard enough. Memories would come back, moments, haunting my conscious mind. Moments from before. My life was so bleak and cold and gray then, always so purposeless and meandering. I wonder how I didn't see it. I now realize how meaningless everything was, everything I thought was so important. I used to think about these things. About how I had been searching without finding for my whole life, and how I never realized it. Not anymore. I understand now that it doesn't matter. None of it matters. What's done is done, and time can't be recovered. All that matters is _now_. The moment. All that matters is that feeling, that rush of calm I get when the lotus passes my lips. Its sweet, crisp taste like a thousand tiny pins against my tongue. The corner of my eye grows sharp. I see every movement, detect the rustle of a leaf and the blink of an eagle and the slow inching of the sun across the sky. Everything around me is moving, and I am still. The lotus seems to glow, its pearly pink petals reaching out to the sky, to the ocean, to me. Calling for me. Telling me to forget. And I do. I want to forget. What could I remember, what could be better than this? I am so capable, so purposeful, yet so contained, and I know it.

I do not move, but I see a ship drifting toward us, the waves carrying it up and down. These will not be the first people to discover the island of the lotus, nor will they be the last. Very few are fortunate enough to find it, and when they do, they understand why it must be kept hidden, protected from those who are not enlightened. The ship reaches shore, and I see a large group of men disembark. It is clear how different they are. Their jerky movements, their rough, untamed voices, the dull of their eyes. I have been healed, no longer contaminated with the faults of man. I am now reduced to pure body and essence, the way it is meant to be.

Behind the tall grass and completely motionless, the men cannot see me. They speak, their voices almost comically urgent. I do not smile. I merely watch, as three of them run off, their steps lopsided and lumbering. The other one sits and watches. His face is the face of one who takes great pride in the credit he has assigned himself. His brow is high, a slight curve at one corner of his mouth, his eyes glowing with a lust for power and influence. He is a leader.

I am aware of the other three approaching me. I move, as if running underwater, and turn to face them. My actions are smooth, fluid. They speak to me, asking me about myself, my people. I don't have a people. I am alone, independent, self reliant. I don't depend on other individuals for my survival anymore. I have no control over their actions, no affirmation that they'll do what they say they will. I don't know the inside of their minds, and relying on something you don't know is dangerous. I don't answer the men's questions. I reach over hand them each a flower, and tell them to eat. They do, and I can see the change in their faces. They are being rinsed clean of the problems of mankind. All spots of unhappiness are carried away on the clear, fresh water, and are forgotten. Every inhibition, every intent, every regret is now gone. I can see the wonder on their faces as they first experience this serenity.

The other man, the leader, finds us. He speaks to them in harsh tones, ordering them to return. He doesn't understand. He couldn't. It's not possible to imagine something your mind can't create by itself. The leader uses force, dragging them by their arms, their feet leaving unbroken trails in the sand. I do not try to stop him. I live for myself, and myself only. I can hear their cries in the distance, though their voices are as clear as day.

I let my eyelids slowly drift down, until all I see is black. I move my arm, and the cool skin of the lotus presses against my lips. It satisfies my every desire. Bursts of orange, yellow, blue erupt smoothly out of the darkness. I see swirls of green and pink, gentle flashes of purple. The men are gone, they have left my thoughts. Again I am consumed with the solid purity of the lotus, consuming my thoughts and actions. Nothing matters. Nothing matters so much. And I drift away, away to forget.


End file.
